Visions of Her
by of self
Summary: You had visions of her as your everything and your visions are being played out in front of you, except you are not a part of them. Someone else is in your place. Shane/Caitlyn.


So I'm venturing into uncharted territory here, with Shane/Caitlyn (sort of )angst and all. This was a little hard for me cause I've never really delved deep into Shane's mind so I apologise for OOC' ness. I tried my best to do it properly and if isn't good then I'm terribly sorry. Anyways I hope you enjoy it. :)

Disclaimer: I do now own CR.

* * *

You never ever thought in a million years, that you'd be the one standing here, in a church of all places. There's a sea of people staring back at you and even whispering, you imagine about the flowers or the decorations (because there's always some idiot who isn't happy at the wedding)

There's a bridesmaid who's eyeing you suggestively and you shudder at the thought of her even coming near you. Can't she wait till the ceremony ends at least, to pounce one someone?

You want to tug at your bow tie and rip if off your neck, because the damn thing is choking you, but you wore it anyways, because she said so. Hell, you'd have worn a thong and come or you would have even come stark naked if she had asked you too. That's how crazily in love you are with her.

/

Then the organ march begins, and your head whips up along with other heads just in time to see her enter. She is a vision in white. Your breath hitches and your throat is stuck and your heart is rebounding painfully against your chest.

Being in love is not all that wonderful as they make it out to be eh?

The beatific glow on her face (and really she does glow) puts a smile on yours and everyone else's face. Even the horny bridesmaid's. This is the part of the wedding that everyone looks forward too. When the bride walks down to aisle. Petty things are put aside and everyone concentrates on her because it's her day. The day she shines and glows and looks truly ethereal.

She walks up and stands at the altar.

You had a vision that this was how it would be, your wedding with her. But there is one tiny little (big) glitch. It's so small; it's an almost imperceptible (glaring) error. You're not the groom. You're the _fucking_ best man. (Once again second fiddle)

And _he_ smiles and you smile painfully. You wanted to be the guy next to her on her wedding day, but you're only the guy who is the best man. And as much as it hurts being there, standing there, watching her get married to someone else (your younger brother that's who) you'll do it. And it's all for love really. Painful, heart wrenching, gut kicking, stomach churning love.

/

The priest does his thing; it's not like your paying any attention to him at all. No you're not. You're eyes are fixed on her and you are desperately trying to drink in this vision of loveliness. To memorize, every curve of her lip, every line of her body, the look on her face (pure happiness). You're _this_ close to perfection and it's the only chance you'll _ever_ have to get that close to it.

The vows are exchanged, the rings are exchanged. When the priest asks for objections, for once crazy moment, you want to jump and say yes, that you object vehemently to this marriage. That you are the one who is supposed to be marrying her, that she shouldn't be marrying your younger brother. That is marriage shouldn't be happening at all. That you love her (so much so that it hurts like crazy).

The silence is deafening around the church and people look around for that stupid someone (if anyone at all) who actually wants to mess up the happy couple.

But you don't mind it, it's you're one last chance to tell her, what you could never voice for seven (fucking long) years. Three simple words.

I love you.

You take one look at her face, and that urge dies a quick death. She looks so (deliriously) happy and you know that you can't spoil it for her. Not even if it means living the rest of your life with the burden of unrequited love and misery. Not even then. You are content with the fact that from now on you are going to live vicariously; if she's happy, you're happy. Period.

/

And then the kiss happens. The deed is done. She officially belongs to someone else, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death parts them.

It's official and now she is Caitlyn Gellar-Gray (because she is not one to bow down to patriarchy)

And your heart thumps painfully in your chest, struggling along as best as it can. Cause it's broken into a million little pieces, and the jagged pieces are hurting to you. You're eyes shine with unshed tears (regret) and everybody thinks you are moved at the sight of your younger brother and your best friend.

Good, let them think that. Because if they knew that you want to cry (rather scream) because the love of your life is getting married to your younger brother, they wouldn't exactly approve, now would they?

/

It's time for the wedding reception now and everyone is waiting for the newly married couple to take the floor for their first dance as man and wife. The musician calls them out and they take to the floor.

This is another one of your visions gone wrong. See in your vision, you were there dancing with her, giving her small kisses, holding you arms around her possessively. And you were dancing to a song you wrote exclusively for her. (Now you'll have to go back and burn it, just like all those photographs you took)

The reality is that, she is dancing in his arms, he is giving her small kisses and they are dancing to a song he wrote for her.

A waiter passes by and you pick up a champagne flute. Because all that there's left to do now, is drown yourself in misery. And champagne is a better companion than the horny bridesmaid. Though you know sometime later, you be sufficiently drunk enough to end up with her in some dark corner.

/

You had another vision too, of her sitting on the front porch of your big country house (because it's the only place the paparazzi cannot find you often) laughing as she watched you, your Labrador and your little son play football. She cheers you and you gallantly acknowledge by blowing her a kiss.

She blows you kisses just as she blows your little boy Kevin (named after her granddad) kisses. She doesn't join your game(basket ball is more her kind of game), but she does give you'll hugs as you troop inside the house sweaty from your game.

As you lean down to give her a kiss, your mind is floods with happiness. Because you have everything you want. (You know it's only a vision but you want to stay in it a little longer.)

The shatter of crystal breaks you out of your vision. Someone's already had a little too much to drink. You know for a fact that you are going to beat that person hollow later on. For now, you want to hold onto sobriety, at least until, she's there.

/

They finish dancing and she is dancing with her father when you gracefully cut in, demanding a dance with your best friend (the one true love of your life). And he laughingly obliges ( because for him, you were almost like a son). You sweep her off and notice her sparkling eyes. Something knots deep inside of you because you want to be the only one who makes her eyes sparkle. But someone else does it now.

There are so many things you've wanted to do but you didn't. But you'll always know that your biggest regret will be the fact that you never told Caitlyn Gellar how much you loved her. (More than life). That you let her be someone else's without even a murmur of protest because you were too scared to tell her. That you loved her, needed her, wanted her more than anything else in the world.

She rests her head in the crook of your neck and for a few moments you imagine, that this is your vision. Your fingers flutter over her bareback and you are tempted to drop kisses on her shoulder. But you rein yourself and drop soft kisses on her head.

You know, that these few moments that you spend wit her dancing are going to fill your dreams forever. You revel in these moments because experience tells you that they'll get over all to too soon and you'll be left hanging on to bare traces of them.

And experience is right. Someone else demands a dance with her and she gracefully obliges, thought not before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek and tracing your jaw with her hand.

And then she is gone and you're left standing alone. The pain, which you had managed to suppress till now, is bubbling over and you quickly move to the side and grab a bottle and head to a quite alcove.

_(drown, drowninyoursorrows_)

/

You sit down in some garden and slowly the tears begin to fall. You rue every thing, missed chances, your stupidity, and love. Most of all you rue love. If you had not been so late in telling her then she wouldn't have been married to Nate.

She would have been married to you, Shane. And then you would have lived happily together. Because all your visions would have come true.

But it always doesn't work that way; happy endings are not handed out to everyone. So you'll just sit and try to drink away the pain, because that's all there is really left to do now.

They have their life and all you have left is your bottle and memories and regrets and maybe that one photo which you'll always treasure because in that she is yours and yours alone.

Because you can dream can't you, even if your visions didn't come true?

( and it's all you have left really)

* * *

Whew. Shane/Caitlyn is so far out left field for me that I dont think I will be attempting them again in a hurry. Unless I want to sign my death warrant. Heh. And one last thing, I tried to follow the wedding ceremony pattern as best as I could but sorry if it got jumbled, wikipedia confused a me a lot and did not help much.


End file.
